


Taking Care Of John

by afteriwake



Series: Domestic Bliss [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is down in the dumps because of a fight with his sister. Sherlock does what any good boyfriend would do and tries to fix things. It doesn't go quite as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care Of John

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FishEyenoMiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishEyenoMiko/gifts).



> Another answer to a sherlockmas Afterglow Fest prompt: "John gets depressed (family problems? Bad experience with a patient?), and Sherlock takes care of him for once." This is my first time writing Sherlock/John because I actually don't ship this ship, but the idea of them as a couple made sense for this story so I went with it. I hope you all enjoy it.

Sherlock prided himself on being a smart man, an observant man. He may not understand the entire emotional spectrum that much of the world had, but he could tell when someone’s behaviors were changing. He may be overly unsentimental, but that was before John. And he could see that John was hurting, and he wanted to help. After all, John had done so much for him. If he could return the favor even by the smallest portion, then he would at least try.

First, however, he wanted to find out what was wrong. So he put his skills at deduction to good use. He talked to everyone he knew, skillfully working his questions into what he thought passed as normal conversation, and he listened carefully to the answers he was being given. He pieced together that it was family problems, some row with Harry over some matter which didn’t seem all that important to him but mattered greatly to John. There were times he forgot that John’s relationship with his sister was not as cold and distant as his own relationship with Mycroft.

He had Harry’s number. John had given it to him in case of emergencies. And it had only taken a moment to get her on the phone and tell her to make things right with John. Satisfied that part one of his plan had worked well enough, he started work on part two. Despite what John thought, Sherlock could cook well enough; after all, he had been living alone for a long time and Mrs. Hudson had repeatedly reminded him that she was not a housekeeper, a maid or a cook. He’d had to fend for himself and there were certain foods he could make very well.

He had only been making breakfast for ten minutes when he heard the door to their room slam and he heard John shout “Sherlock!”

“I’m making breakfast!” he called back, bound and determined to take care of John for once. He ignored the sound of John’s heavy stomps as he came into the common room.

“What gave you the right to call my sister and demand she make amends with me?” John said when he got into the kitchen.

Sherlock didn’t look at him as he spoke. “From everything you have told the rest of our friends, she is in the wrong. It has caused a change in your behavior. I want her to fix it.”

John threw his arms up in the air. “Yes, she might be in the wrong, but I just got done being yelled at for twenty minutes about my impertinent boyfriend putting his nose in where it doesn’t belong. If anything else, you’ve made her dig in her heels. Now she’ll never acknowledge that I’m right.” Then he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Next time, stay out of my family squabbles.”

“Fine,” Sherlock said. “Now, if you would be so kind, sit down at the table.”

“Why?” John asked warily.

“Because I made you breakfast.” Sherlock finally turned to look at John. “So sit down.”

John’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What, exactly, did you cook?”

“I made you an omelet,” he said exasperatedly. “Now sit down and eat it before it gets cold.” Sherlock watched as John sat down in his usual chair, and he brought over a plate with the omelet, a fork and a knife on it as well as a cup of coffee.

“You didn’t drug the omelet, did you?” John asked, looking up.

“No,” Sherlock said as he set the plate in front of him.

“What about the coffee?”

“ _No_ ,” Sherlock said, beginning to lose his patience. “I promised you I wouldn’t run any more experiments like that on you, and I am a man of my word.” He crossed his arms and stood nearby. “Take a bite.”

“What type of omelet is it?” John asked, picking up the fork and knife and cutting a very tiny amount.

“Mushroom, red pepper and cheese. Those are the toppings you constantly get on your pizza so I assumed you are fond of those two vegetables.” Sherlock watched as John put the bit of omelet into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Well?”

“This is actually very good,” John said, his eyes slightly wide. He cut a larger portion this time. “I should have you make these more often.”

“Well, I will if you ask,” Sherlock said with a slight grin.

“I’m asking.” John ate that portion and then busied himself with finishing the rest of his omelet. After a moment Sherlock went back to the kitchen and got his own plate, bringing it to the table and sitting down next to John. He watched as John took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. “Even after all these years you still don’t know how I take my coffee.”

“It’s the thought that counts though, right?” Sherlock asked, taking a bite of his own meal.

“Yes, Sherlock, it’s the thought that counts.” John went back to eating for a few moments. “Just do me a favor and stay out of any tiffs I may have with my sister. You may be my boyfriend but she still doesn’t like you.”

“Well, I don’t like her much either, so it works out in the end,” Sherlock said before taking another bite of his own food. “At least she wasn’t howling for an apology.”

“Yes. Of course, she’s learned by now that even your apologies aren’t really apologies.”

“That’s not true,” Sherlock said, pointing his fork at John. “The last time we had a fight I apologized quite well.”

“Taking me to bed is not an apology,” John said, though there was the ghost of a smile on his face. “An apology is saying you’re sorry and actually meaning it.”

“Then I’m sorry I called your sister.”

“Thank you.”

“But she’s in the wrong.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And I promise not to do it again, even if she deserves a stern talking to.”

“Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

John opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head. “Never mind. Thank you for breakfast. It was a nice gesture.”

“You’re welcome.” Sherlock looked at John, who gave him a wider grin, and he grinned back. Perhaps he’d get the hang of all this relationship stuff after all…


End file.
